Death

Yesterday I went home for lunch. A handful of women were mopping downstairs where they've been doing lots of drilling and whatnot for the to-be café. I thought nothing of it. I went upstairs to put my things away and Mohammed came to fetch me saying that a cow was downstairs. I verified that we were talking about a cow by saying 'moo,' and followed him downstairs.

Upon seeing the cow I knew it was meant for slaughter. Our neighbors' son is getting married this weekend. I was sat down next to Hanane and right behind the one support column in the entire room. Like all sacrificial scenes in movies, the singing and ululating got louder and louder with each second until the moment of the slitting of the throat which passed in silence. The column hid my view of the actual act and also blocked the initial spray from hitting me (I was wearing white, so thank God).

For an hour total I watched as they tied the legs together to pull the cow off its feet, the actual killing, the casual chat as women went about mopping up the blood, and the two men sharpen their knives time and again to cut off the feet, skin the cow, and properly divide it up. I had to wolf down my lunch in five minutes and run to class.

Oddly enough, it didn't disgust me. I didn't feel sick (though when I got home in the evening the whole house reeked of cow). I watched with a blank face. The animal locked eyes with me after its throat had been slit, so that didn't exactly make me feel warm inside. I had never witnessed death before unless you count squished bugs. A little boy sat by watching and munching on cheese puffs. Mohammed discussed the price of new curtains with Hanane.

Yesterday morning on Souiqa (the main market street that I live only one block from) a women was stabbed by a man who then stole a car, drove to one of the nearby churches, and killed a small boy. The man knew neither party but is allegedly mentally unstable.

Other than that, I watched a movie bought on the street for 5dhm and ate strawberries courtesy of Mother's indulgent shopping experience. Only one month remains with homestay families. We have papers and exams and birthdays up the wazoo in the coming five weeks.

To be blunt, I'm kind of done here. I enjoy Morocco but I've seen enough of it, and I am ready to be back in the States. I was followed by a man this morning from Mohammed V (like Main Street) all the way to the center (i.e. ten minutes' walking). A boy on his motorcycle followed me all the way home yesterday. As the warmer weather comes along, shorter sleeves is a direct correlation to exponential harassment growth. Oh joy.